“Stepan,” Kirill called out weakly. His eyes then slowly fluttered open to the blinding lights that made him confused as to where he was.

Stepan took a hold of both of his shoulders and called out to him worriedly. "Kirill..." He looked tense. Never before in his life he felt worried over someone so endlessly. It was not a pretence. This genuine worry that he has sometimes even made him afraid. He is afraid of the power that Kirill has on him. The more he is afraid, the more he wants to exert control on that source of power.

The first thing that Kirill’s eyes could make out was the shape of a person. "Stepan?" He called. He tried to look around but he still couldn’t see clearly yet. "Where am I?" He asked.

"In my room. Are you feeling alright?" Stepan indicated and immediately tried to make sure that Kirill was feeling okay. He wanted to pull Kirill up to a sitting position but he waited for Kirill to confirm his own condition first before doing that.

"How long have I been out?" Kirill asked as he tried to get up, being supported by Stepan. He placed one of his palms to his head and further adjusted his eyesight. Only then could he see the interior of that familiar room. Stepan’s room which was always brightly lit by the massive window and the massive mirror as a reflector of the lights coming in.

Stepan placed a pillow behind Kirill so that he could lean on the bed comfortably. “A day and a half? You must’ve never done any drugs. You were given normal sedatives but you passed out for such a long time,” Stepan informed and lightly chuckled as he thought to himself how relieved he felt to see Kirill finally waking up. “Are you feeling alright? Does it hurt anywhere?” Stepan asked. He brushed the side of Kirill’s cheek with the back of one of his hands gently while his eyes looked down on Kirill worriedly.

Kirill was shocked at first to see the look in Stepan’s eyes that he couldn’t answer the question immediately. He had never seen Stepan look at anyone like that before. His eyes were so gentle that he could have mistaken it as him looking at a person he loves. "M-my stomach hurts a little," Kirill then said. He didn’t realise that his face had already blushed red.

Stepan didn’t notice it yet as he was immediately reminded of the guys that had hurt his precious one. "Those bastards! It's bruised,” He cursed and lifted Kirill’s clothes without warning to see the bruise on Kirill’s stomach. “But it's okay. My family has this special ointment. I've been putting that on you. It'll heal soon.” He spoke lengthily before lifting his face to finally notice Kirill blushing. Their eyes met and stopped dead looking at each other for a few seconds. Kirill was the first to turn his face away. He blushed all the way to his neck and he faked a cough to cover his embarrassment.

Stepan took a good look at Kirill’s neck and he couldn’t help but want to mark that part of the skin with hickeys. He knew how good it felt as Kirill tightened his asshole when he sucked on his neck while he was fucking him. But he could only smirk at this sight for now. He never was the patience type. But if he really did what he wanted, Kirill would be very afraid of him. He was sure of that. He couldn’t reveal his true self to Kirill. “Do you remember everything that had happened?" He asked. It is so that he would not entertain further lewd thoughts he had in his mind.

The question was a good distraction. Kirill started to recall everything that had happened. "I think so?" He spoke. Nonetheless, he was still unsure of one thing. "Was I… raped?" He asked hesitantly. He didn’t really want to know the answer but he also knew he needed to know the truth.

"No. I got there in time," Stepan answered. ‘My dick was the only dick that ever went in that asshole of yours’. He wanted to say that too but he chose not to. That knowledge alone was enough for him.

This fact made a huge burden dropped from the depth of Kirill’s heart. He felt relieved that it didn’t get to that point. But he suddenly thought of something. "Wait. How did you know where to find me?"

"Some of them tipped me off. So I let them off," Stepan answered perfunctorily. ‘For now,’ he added in his head.

"What about Louis?"

"He ran away."

"Ran away?"

“Hmm,” Stepan avoided looking into Kirill’s eyes so he focused his eyesight on Kirill’s hand. He picked one of Kirill’s hands up and used his thumb to lightly rub on the skin. "He got away. But don't worry. My men are looking for him,” He lied. “He'll pay for what he did to Kliment," He then added in order to make Kirill feel at ease.

"It's not him," Kirill suddenly said. To this, Stepan looked straight into Kirill’s eyes in askance. "He's not the one who killed Kliment," Kirill spoke. It was decisive.

Stepan’s heart started to race with anxiety. He wondered if Kirill knew the one who actually did. In that short few seconds alone, he had started to calculate items at his disposal that he could use to subdue Kirill if he were to make a move. "What do you mean? He is Lolita111. It must be him," He said with a slight tremor in his voice.

But Kirill didn’t notice Stepan’s abnormality. "Yes, he's Lolita111 but he's not the one who killed Kliment," he kept on saying. He then took hold of Stepan’s hand which was holding one of his with both of his hands. This little gesture comforted Stepan into thinking that Kirill did not suspect him at all so he relaxed his vigilance.

"How are you sure about that?" Stepan asked, pretending to be calm as he always did. After all, this is what he’s good at. He’s excellent at pretending to be someone he’s not.

Kirill sighed a little before speaking. He didn’t look into Stepan’s eyes this time. He started to focus on Stepan’s hand in his as he caressed it. "I didn't tell this to anyone before. But when Kliment was being strangled, he grabbed the killer's wrist. There's a long scar on his wrist," he informed.

Stepan had his eyes closed and gritted his teeth for a moment in frustration at this fact spoken by Kirill but he was quick to change his expression. Kirill didn't even have the chance to notice it. "I see,” he said softly. His free hand went to pull Kirill’s hands away from holding one of his. He then interlocked their fingers on both hands before saying; “But anyway, we can't let Louis get away like that, right?"

Kirill looked up to Stepan and smiled. "Yeah," he agreed. "By the way, Stepan, do you know what happened to Emanuel?"

‘Emanuel?’ Stepan wondered. "Who's that?"

"The basketballer that I jumped on?"

‘Ah… the other dead guy,’ Stepan recalled. But he feigned innocence. "Oh. Why are you asking me about him?"

"Those guys were asking me where he was. They said he's missing," Kirill spoke. He didn’t know why it bothered him. It was like he was missing something. It was like he had forgotten something but he couldn’t pinpoint as to what it was.

Stepan raised his eyebrows, looking appalled by the information. "Is that so? I don't know what happened to him but I assume he must've run off too."

"Why would he run?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he looked around as if thinking about every possibility. "I don't know? Because he's also involved with 'Fed Fet-ish' like Louis?" Stepan suggested.

Kirill was forced to think in the same direction and began to make connections in his mind. "Hmm. I guess that makes sense," he said.

"Hey,” Stepan called for Kirill’s attention by pulling on his hand through their interlocking fingers. “You need a lot of rest. Don't think too much about it, okay? I'll keep you updated,” Stepan said.

"Okay," Kirill can’t help but to agree with him. "Hmm. Stepan,..." He suddenly called out as he fiddled with Stepan’s fingers.

"Yes?" Stepan's voice sounded like he’s pampering Kirill with love and that made it even more unbearable for Kirill.

"Thank you," he spoke of his gratitude. He is in fact very thankful to Stepan. He was no damsel in distress but Stepan was always like a knight in shining armour. It’s even funny to think that when he first met Stepan, he thought that Stepan was a red flag. But he guessed intuition could be wrong sometimes.

Stepan smiled at Kirill. It’s impossible to miss his intentions to flirt. "You can thank me with a kiss," he said.

Kirill was dumbfounded at first. He couldn’t help to think to himself of what this all meant. Stepan’s attention towards him, pampering him, saving him and touching him like this… it’s almost as if they are lovers. ‘Are we lovers?’ he wondered. But his body still moved on his own without completely examining the reason. Kirill tilted his head up for a kiss as if to invite him and Stepan gladly went down on the lips. Kirill’s lips were a little dry but he was kissed wet with Stepan’s mouth.

“Damn,” Stepan cursed as he broke the kiss for a moment. “I forgot to offer you water to drink,” he said but he still continued to kiss him without waiting for his response. Kirill chuckled slightly at what he had said in between the kiss. The kiss went from soft gentle innocence kiss to wild and steamy kiss in no time. The next thing they knew was that Kirill was already pinned down to the bed by Stepan. A soft groan of pain escaped from Kirill’s mouth and that was the only thing that brought them both back to their senses. Stepan had accidentally pressed on Kirill’s bruised part of the stomach. “Shit!” Stepan cursed as he got up immediately, letting go of Kirill. “Fuck. Sorry,” he apologised. He totally lost his mind back there. "Get some rest. I'll go get you something to eat," He said hurriedly and immediately escaped from the room, leaving Kirill on the bed feeling confused all to himself.

Kirill laughed slightly to himself as he ruffled his own hair. What was he thinking? He had forgotten the rumour that Stepan only slept with someone once. It’s not like Stepan was in love with him or anything like that. Somehow, he kind of felt frustrated. And then, more bad thoughts started coming in. He began to think about the dream he had. No. To be precise, it was more of a nightmare than a dream.

‘Kliment.’ This name. The person. The side he knew and the side he didn’t know. ‘Why am I still looking for you?’ Kirill wondered. He loved his brother. He cared about him. But even his unconscious mind knew that his brother was a monster. Why bother looking for him? Why bother looking for his murderer? But the answer is clear. It was his unresolved conflict. As long as Kliment is not found, he would not feel satisfied. Finding Kliment has become… his obsession. Along the way, he no longer knew his purpose. But he only knew that he had to find him. It was not much for Kliment anymore but it was more for himself. He needed to come to terms with it.

By this time, Kirill had no idea that Stepan had gone out to see Maxim first before anything else. "Damn it," Stepan cursed to himself again. Somehow, he felt thankful that Maxim’s uniform for work had always been long-sleeved. "You,” he pointed his finger at him. “Make sure Kirill never sees the scar on your wrist," he instructed. “He must never see it. Understand?”

Maxim looked at his young master blankly and only nodded his head at him as he answered; "Yes, young master." It was unknown as to the thoughts inside his head.

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Next update: 2022/09/26

*Author’s Note: First of all, thank you to everyone who's reading this story and commenting on the chapters. I really appreciate it. I’m excited to get into the plot twist but I myself need to be patient so that I won’t rush into it. I think this story will somehow exceed 40 chapters. Phew! Just bear with me a little. I need some time to complete the next chapter. Thank you for your patience. -K